


Somewhere Between the Floors and You

by UnCon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Claustrophobia, M/M, no smut :(, stuck in this elevator with you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnCon/pseuds/UnCon
Summary: “Hold the elevator!” a voice called, the urgency cutting through Gavin’s daydream like a saw. “Hello Officer,” the man said, giving a polite nod and matching smile.Gavin acknowledged it with a wave, not really in the mood to talk when his tongue felt like lead. But he forced himself to ask what floor, it was common elevator curtesy after all.“Uh, nine,” the man said, but the button was already depressed.They shared the silence of mutual strangers who’d probably never see each other again, despite the fact they lived in the same building. Gavin hoped the man wasn’t the chatty kind, the climb to the 9th floor was a long one, and awkward silences often compelled people to break them. They were near their respective floors, the elevator chugging along like a living being.The elevator ground to a halt, finally freeing them from the bonds of human interaction.The stranger waited for the doors to open to say his farewell, but it seemed the iron box had other ideas, as it stalled seemingly waiting for God to grant it permission.“Does it normally take that long?”
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 11
Kudos: 137





	Somewhere Between the Floors and You

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting in my drive for nearly a year, so I dusted it off and fixed a few of the kinks. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Also, excuse some of the mistakes, it's not beta-read.

All things considered—it’d been a normal day.

Gavin woke to the wonderful sounds of his cat scratching off the wooden floor’s varnish, something he’d given up replacing after the third time. The coffee machine heaved its last glug, forcing him to make it the old fashion way—not at all. When trying to take a shower, the water ran colder than his step-mother on the weekends, so he just settled for a puddle bath by the sink. 

He didn’t pay his misfortunes much mind, he just hoped the day wouldn’t get any worse. Looking at the sky, he was thankful the clouds weren’t particularly heavy.

He clicked the button for the elevator, watching the numbers climb to his floor. The building was old, he had to admit, as the clunking of the machine ground to a halt. Absently, he wondered when it was last maintained, he can’t remember ever seeing a sign or even a box of tools by the bottom floor.

It’d never failed him, though, even in a pinch that elevator climbed to the 9th floor and brought him to the ground. And today wasn’t any different.

Gavin greeted Pascal, the landlord. The man was older than death but always managed to smile at Gavin. Maybe it was the uniform—people were nicer to him when he was all in blue.

His job wasn’t as exciting as people fantasized, most of his day consisted of giving speeding tickets. It was rare he’d be called to a full-blown shoot out with high-speed chases and helicopter pursuits.

Sometimes he wanted to quit when the calls hit close to home, or children were involved…

He tried not to think about it often, for his mental health more than anything. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t cried in the beginning.

Maybe that’s why he’d given up on a family, his inability to protect them from everything would weigh on his conscience every time he stepped out the door. The cat was enough trouble as it were.

But all things considered, it’d been a normal day. The night, however, left much to be desired.

He was dragging his feet to the building, stopping by the mailboxes even though they were always empty. Most of his mail came electronically, but it was a habit he’d developed from his youth and he heard those were hard to quit.

Pascal had retired for the night, his antiquated “closed” sign a confirmation. Gavin yawned, begging his legs to push through the soreness and bring him to the elevator button. He nearly missed the ding, his mind drifting to an unsteady sleep without his consent. Gavin walked inside, cursing as he miss-clicked the floor. He tried slapping his face to wake up, but without that morning coffee, the day had been rough.

He was almost home though, where he could crawl under his covers—dirty uniform and all.

“Hold the elevator!” a voice called, the urgency cutting through Gavin’s daydream like a saw. He thought he’d imagined it until a hand pushed itself to stop the closing doors. That man was brave, there’d never been a guarantee those sensors worked. Regardless, he made it through, to the chagrin of the officer. Gavin just wanted to sleep, another interruption and he’d resign to passing out.

“Hello Officer,” the man said, giving a polite nod and matching smile.

Gavin acknowledged it with a wave, not really in the mood to talk when his tongue felt like lead. But he forced himself to ask what floor, it was common elevator curtesy after all.

“Uh, nine,” the man said, but the button was already depressed.

They shared the silence of mutual strangers who’d probably never see each other again, despite the fact they lived in the same building. Gavin hoped the man wasn’t the chatty kind, the climb to the 9th floor was a long one, and awkward silences often compelled people to break them.

“Normally I take the stairs, but it’s late so,” the stranger began, rubbing his neck as if he had some obligation to explain his decision to the officer.

Gavin couldn’t care less, it’s not like it impacted his life what the stranger did or didn’t do. But he nodded like understood, employing the politeness they’d drilled into his head since elementary school.

They were near their respective floors, the elevator chugging along like a living being. Once, he’d asked Pascal how old the building was if anyone would know it’d be the owner, but even he had lost the original deed to the place, only acquiring the renovation papers. By his estimate, it could be over 100 years old, though Pascal says you’d never know it. Oh, you’d know it, especially when the faucet squeals before it spits water like a fire hydrant.

Gavin wasn’t sure why he fixated on the building, why he hadn’t moved after he started earning a paycheck. Maybe it was convenience—or loyalty—though he hadn’t been sure he could have either.

The elevator ground to a halt, finally freeing them from the bonds of human interaction.

The stranger waited for the doors to open to say his farewell, but it seemed the iron box had other ideas, as it stalled seemingly waiting for God to grant it permission.

“Does it normally take that long?” the stranger asked, his brows coming together in a concerned scowl. They brought attention to his eyes, not quite blue, not quite grey—somewhere in between.

Gavin shook his head, blinking quickly to clear his mind. “Sometimes it takes a little bit,” he reassured, stifling another yawn.

“That’s a bit disconcerting,” the stranger murmured, his voice like smooth gravel (if that made sense).

“Perks for the convenience,” Gavin joked, but even he had to admit it was taking longer than usual.

Maybe it was the extensive day he’d had or the lack of caffeine, but it seemed that time slowed down when he looked at his watch—the second hand stopping altogether.

“This can’t be fucking happening,” Gavin said through his teeth, punching the eighth number to see if it’d restart the mechanical beast. When it didn’t, he pressed the ninth button, slowly coming to the realization that they weren’t going anywhere.

Out of desperation, he hit the fourteenth and final floor (technically the thirteenth) but nothing happened. Gavin rubbed his temples, the adrenaline making its way through his veins both unwelcome and unfortunate. So much for a good night’s rest.

“I take it we’re stuck,” the stranger guessed, a wry smile on his lips.

Gavin bit back the urge to snap, pinching the bridge of his nose to block the headache threatening to form. Instead, he tried to keep calm and hit the emergency button. The tell-tale light wasn’t switching on, and his heart gave a lurch when he tried it again, unsure if this was a nightmare or some sick joke. “Shit,” he whispered, praying for a miracle as his finger kept clicking the button. “We’re stuck,” he confirmed, giving up with a sigh.

“Okay,” the stranger said, trying to feign tranquillity as space slowly closed in on them and the air became a bit thin. Maybe it was all in his head, he’d never known himself to be claustrophobic. “Do you have your phone, I left mine upstairs,” he said, patting his pockets just in case.

“Who leaves their phone behind nowadays?” Gavin groused, patting his own pockets. It was in there, on 5% battery, but alive.

“I was just taking out the trash, didn’t think I’d need it for that,” the stranger said, his tone strained and his eyes narrowing.

Gavin ignored him, calling 911—the irony knocking the doors of his sense of humour. The immediate click wasn’t a good sign, and he tried to keep his head level as he dialled again. Again, it hung up.

He looked at the phone in disbelief, the ‘no service’ tucked into a corner, reminding him they were in a metal box—an old one at that.

“We don’t—”

“Don’t tell me,” the stranger said, rubbing his temples as he grew pale, looking ready to pass out.

“Would you rather I lie to you?” Gavin asked, pocketing the phone. With no other options but to sit or scream, he decided on the one that would cause him less distress.

“H-how can you remain so calm?!” the stranger asked, pointing a finger as if it were Gavin’s fault, “we’re stuck in a fucking elevator.”

“Comes with the territory,” Gavin said, leaning against the cold metal and closing his eyes, trying his darndest not to give in to the panic rising in his chest.

“I think I’m gonna’ puke,” the stranger warned dry heaving by the opposite corner.

“Don’t,” Gavin implored, “or we’ll be stuck with the smell until we get out.”

“If we get out.”

“Don’t be so fatalistic,” Gavin snapped, “there’s only one elevator in the whole building—they’ll figure it out eventually.” “Or take the stairs,” the stranger grumbled, his worried eyes taking in his surroundings as if for the first time.

“What’s your name anyway?” Gavin asked, getting tired of referring to the stranger as ‘the stranger’.

“Ace,” the stran—Ace replied, extending his hand as a reflex. Gavin stretched his arm to shake it, not wanting to move from his position on the floor.

“I’m Gavin,” the officer replied. Now that they were on a first-name basis, he hoped they’d calm down and wait for help.

It fell silent in the metal cage, the only noise coming from the odd creaks and groans from the old machine. Surprisingly, they lulled the officer to sleep, his soft snores startling Ace.

The man looked oddly at Gavin, perplexed by his behaviour. How could one rest under such circumstances? Ace took a deep breath, and another, as he sunk next to the officer, taking comfort in the fact he wasn’t alone.

* * *

Gavin jumped awake to the sound of urgent banging. The blood rushed into his ears as he took inventory of his senses and his surroundings. Huh, so he hadn’t dreamed the ‘trapped in the elevator’ part. He stood and stretched, looking at the time to see how much had passed before he dealt with whatever Ace was doing. Two hours, not bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gavin asked, employing his serious voice.

Ace whirled around to meet the officer’s eyes, they were blood-shot from screaming and crying. His hand ached from the constant pounding, and his heart hadn’t stopped thumping since the whole fiasco began. “How can you stay so calm?” he accused, pushing his back against the double doors as he rocked back and forth.

“You think I’m not freaking out too?” Gavin asked, “we’re stuck in a fucking elevator—you only see this shit in horror movies, of course, I’m freaking out!” he continued, “the difference is, I’m not acting like an idiot about it!”

“Well, excuse me officer for acting like an idiot,” Ace spat, standing up and rubbing a shaky hand through his brown hair. When they stood this close, Gavin couldn’t help but notice their height difference, how Ace towered over him a good half-foot, yet looked as if a slight breeze could knock him over.

“I didn’t—Gavin cleared his throat, rubbing the knots out of his jaw—I didn’t mean to offend, Ace, I’m just trying to keep level about this, for both our sakes,” Gavin apologized. Something about still being in his uniform compelled him to be the professional one. Otherwise, he’d be hard-pressed to apologize for pointing out the obvious.

Ace inhaled through his teeth, rolling his shoulders, driving out the tense coils in his muscles. He nodded, mostly to himself, as he looked at the metal doors. “I’m not usually like this,” Ace said with a shy smile.

“I’ll let you make it up to me some other time,” Gavin joked, rolling his eyes. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to decide how to proceed. The longer they waited, the more he realized no one was probably coming until tomorrow morning. He wasn’t sure his bladder or his psyche could hold out that long.

Gavin looked around again, sure there was another way out but wasn’t seeing it. “There should be an escape hatch or something,” he murmured, pressing around the metal walls. Ace followed his lead, mainly to occupy his hands, but he’d be lying if he said he knew what he was doing.

They bumped into each other more than once, apologizing each time, as they retraced each other steps like detectives without an ounce of wit between them. It was then Gavin noticed he was sweating, without proper air conditioning, their body heat was trapped, and the more animated they were, the hotter it became.

“Well, that’s a bust,” Gavin grumbled, kicking his feet. The nap could only substitute actual sleep for so long, and he could feel the tendrils of fatigue overtaking his eyelids once more. He stifled a yawn, looking up as he did so. One of the square panels looked thicker than the others, giving him a clue as to its purpose.

“Think you can reach that?” the officer asked, pointing at the square panel with his flashlight.

“Maybe,” Ace replied, reaching for it. His fingers brushed against the metal, budging it when he pushed against it. He almost had it, but there was no way he could get it all the way. “If I had a stick or something,” Ace said, gesturing around.

Gavin had nothing, the closest thing to a stick being his flashlight. He thought about it some more, his cheeks growing warm as an idea sprung to life. “I mean, I could probably reach if you picked me up,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

Ace furrowed his brow, looking far too serious for his young face. Gavin regretted his foolhardy decision to listen to his sleep-deprived thoughts and mentally slapped himself for speaking them aloud. “It was just a suggestion; you don’t have to—”

“No, it’s just, I was thinking the same thing,” Ace admitted, looking sheepish, “I just didn’t know how to ask,” he said, his face a bright pink under the scrutiny of the light.

“Great,” Gavin said, ignoring the lump in his throat, “just ah, I guess I’ll just,” he stuttered as they struggled to find a proper position. Stumbling between an awkward embrace, to Gavin nearly suggesting Ace get on all fours like a stool, they finally decided on the officer hopping on his shoulders, like a child at a concert.

It took a second to adjust since now they had to hunch over to fit properly. Gavin kept his hands on the brunet’s skull to steady himself. Apologizing when he tugged too hard at a strand.

“It’s okay,” Ace said, heaving.

“I’m not too heavy for you, am I?” Gavin asked worriedly, suddenly self-conscious. Ace hadn’t seemed weak from the outside, but maybe his mass was an illusion of his height and it came as a consequence.

“No,” Ace said, which wasn’t entirely a lie, “just not used to having the law on my shoulders,” he joked.

“Har, har,” Gavin mocked, as he looked at the metal panel. He pushed against it, the square groaning as it strained against the pressure. “Fuck, this is heavy,” he huffed, pushing against it again.

Eventually, with enough convincing, the heavy plate fell open with a clang, the sound ringing ominously through the box. “Jesus it’s dark,” Gavin said, his voice echoing through the concrete walls. He shone his flashlight around, taking note of the millions of cobwebs littering the elevator’s many wires.

“Can you see a way out?” Ace asked, thankful for the ability to stand straight.

Gavin looked at what he presumed to be the levels of the apartment. There were metal doors keeping any passersby from entering the metal shaft, but it couldn’t be _that_ impossible to open them.

“I think so,” Gavin said, “I’m gonna’ get up there—hold still.”

Ace gave statues a run for their money as Gavin hauled himself on top of the elevator. The machine gave an awful grunt, nearly causing him to fall, but it stayed put. Gavin didn’t move for a few moments—afraid any extra jostling would trigger a series of events he wasn’t too keen on experiencing. When he was confident, they wouldn’t suddenly fall to their deaths, the officer stood, and made it to the metal doors.

He tried to pry them open, but they wouldn’t budge, even when he stashed the flashlight and used both his arms, it gave a small squeak but stopped before any noticeable progress could be made.

Yep, never been renovated.

“Ace,” Gavin said, poking his head through the hole, “think you can come up here?” he asked, extending his arm to help the man up.

“Must I?” he asked, looking reluctant to take the officer’s hand.

“Yes, you must,” Gavin sighed, “unless you wanna’ wait ‘til morning?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“You drive a hard bargain, Gavin,” Ace said, still looking unconvinced. He obliged, however, and pulled himself through the hole. The machine did that awful noise again, driving Ace to cling to Gavin, sending silent prayers to whatever god would listen.

It was almost endearing, the man was like a big puppy, intimidating to the ignorant, charming to the knowledgeable. Gavin shook his head as he patted the man’s shoulder, “It’s okay,” Gavin reassured, “it seems to have a mind of its own,” he said, gesturing to the elevator.

“Why’d you need me up here again?” Ace asked, pulling out of the impromptu embrace, he hadn’t meant to be so clingy, but the officer was his only companion in the madness. And even if Gavin was feigning his nonchalance, it calmed Ace (to some extent).

“Help me open the door,” Gavin said, grabbing one side as the man took the other. They heaved and pulled in opposite directions, using every ounce of strength to pull the metal apart. It seemed like forever before they had a sliver of light pour into the hole, with a bit more convincing, the doors pulled open, the landing just above their waist.

“Oh, thank God,” Ace sighed, the relief in his voice shaky as he clambered to get to solid ground. He didn’t forget Gavin, pulling the officer through as soon as he was out.

They lay on the floor, panting as they looked at the ceiling, then each other, bursting into laughter seconds later. Because if they didn’t laugh, they’d be sobbing.

“Oh, my fucking god,” Ace nearly shouted, minding his voice only for the neighbours, “I can’t…that…thank you, Gavin,” he said, his eyes sincere pools of gratitude.

“Stairs, definitely taking the stairs next time,” Gavin promised, groaning internally at the trek he’d now have to make to and from work.

“Ditto.”

They stayed on the carpeted floor until their breaths calmed and their laughter died to silent chuckles. Maybe it was their shared near-death experience that made them pull closer, almost as if a magnetism had developed during their admittedly short interaction.

Ace touched the officer’s face, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming any of this. He pulled away just as quickly, unsure what had compelled him to be so bold. “Well, I guess we’ll have a story to tell the grandchildren,” he said, sitting up then standing when his legs didn’t feel like jelly.

Gavin followed his lead, flashing him a half-smile “I guess we will,” he said, touching the spot where Ace had brushed his fingers. The tingling travelling deeper than it had any right to. “Well, see you around,” he said, the exhausting day crashing against his body like a wave.

“Indeed,” Ace replied, turning to the door across from Gavin’s, “goodnight officer.”

“Night,” Gavin replied, an unknown disappointment coursing through his veins as he heard the deadbolt lock.

He’d probably never see the man again, sure he could visit him in the future and reminisce about their misfortune, but it’d be uncalled for, odd, to suddenly invite himself into a stranger’s life, simply because they’d gone through this trauma together.

Gavin fought with himself and this new desire to get to know Ace as he showered, gathering the remainder of his consciousness and tucked it into bed. He put any thoughts of the brunet in the back burner and simply tried to forget as he sunk into the mattress.

* * *

It took four weeks before Gavin saw Ace again—not that he was counting. By then, the elevator had been repaired and Pascal had given him one month of free rent for his troubles.

Gavin wasn’t expecting to run into anyone when he came home from work. Still tired, and still sore, as he ran by the mailbox and trudged to the elevator. It looked the same, but Pascal had assured him it’d been repaired. Gavin looked at it skeptically, but his glutes couldn’t handle another nine flights of stairs.

He groaned, pressing the button, even as his heart hammered hard in his chest.

“You too, huh?”

Gavin recognized the voice—it was hard not to—and turned to greet Ace, nodding in defeat.

“I understand completely,” the brunet said, rubbing his neck.

“Let’s hope there’s not a sequel,” Gavin said, looking at the numbers as they trickled downwards.

“Then what would we tell our grandkids?” Ace teased, his smile stretching over his lips.

“We could always lie to them,” the officer suggested, rubbing his chin as if contemplating it.

“And what example would that be setting,” Ace chastised, wagging his finger.

Gavin was about to respond, but the elevator doors opened, looking as inviting as a coffin. “Gentlemen first,” Gavin said, gesturing for the taller man to enter.

Ace rolled his eyes, but stepped into the cage, waiting for Gavin to do the same.

The officer made sure to press the 9th button and only the 9th, his heart beating against his chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

They both held their breath as the numbers climbed, each floor like a small victory. They nearly exploded from anticipation (and fear) as it reached the penultimate number.

When it finally did land on nine and the doors opened, there was an air of regret, almost as if they’d been looking forward to being stuck again—which was ridiculous, of course.

They made it to their respective doors, each hesitating to open. “I guess we’ll have to lie to them, then,” Ace said, his tone sorrowful.

“I guess we will,” Gavin whispered.

There was another pause, almost as if they were waiting for the universe to give them a sign, a push in the correct direction.

“Goodnight,” Ace said first, leaving it at that.

“Night,” Gavin replied, discontent flooding his senses, yet he wasn’t sure why.

His heart had been so heavy, he nearly missed the light rap on his door. Gavin opened it without a second thought, his face blooming into a smile when he saw the person on the other side. “Yes?” he asked, pretending his heart hadn’t skipped when Ace ran a hand through his soft curls.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” the brunet asked, aiming for a light tone, but the frog in his throat was making it hard to concentrate.

“Other than trying to avoid getting stuck in elevators,” Gavin joked, “no.”

“Would you like to come for a coffee or something, I mean, or whatever,” Ace asked, his awkwardness endearing in a way, “a movie would be fine too.”

“I’m down for whatever,” Gavin said, shrugging his shoulders, thankful for his training—it was the only way he was keeping his cool right now.

“Great,” Ace said, “I’ll see you around 12-ish, or whenever.” Again, the awkwardness should not be as cute as it was. Maybe it was the juxtaposition, having someone that towered over him a good 6 inches, be just as endearing as a bunny was confusing the officer’s emotional receptors.

“It’s a date,” Gavin winked, not waiting for a response as he closed the door before Ace could so much as process the sentence.

As Gavin prepared for bed, he couldn’t help but think about the apartment again, about its inconsistencies and his ridiculous allegiance to the few walls he called his home. He guessed it wasn’t all that bad, besides he wasn’t gonna’ complain if every time he got stuck in an elevator, he ended up with a cute date.

With that conflicting thought, he went to bed, wondering if that hunk of metal did indeed have a mind of its own, or if he was projecting his feelings on the steel.

Regardless, he wasn’t about to complain—near-death experiences and all.


End file.
